WWWI absolutely loved the re-read of Turn Coat! I'd planned to go on to the end of the series with the last three books, but this point is a good place to pause and the arrival of James Potter and the Morrigan Web is an omen of good fortune. So for now a pause to be first filled with the new Lippert book!

WWWOh, since George delivered it sans cover I cobbled one together and attached it to this post for anybody who wants to use it. Mouse-click it for a full-size view.

P.S. [edit add] After resizing all the internal graphics, adding the cover and repairing an oops in the prologue I was able to reduce the size of the resulting ePub to 1.7 megs and the Mobi to 1.5 megs!

For a second, I thought nothing had happened. And then I realized that the soulgaze was already up and running, and that it showed me Molly, standing and facing me as nothing more than she seemed to be. But I could see down the hall behind her, and the church’s windows held half a dozen different reflections.

One was an emaciated version of Molly, as though she’d been starved or strung out on hard drugs, her eyes aglow with an unpleasant, fey light.

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One was her smiling and laughing, older and comfortably heavier, children surrounding her. A third faced me in a grey Warden’s cloak, though a burn scar, almost a brand, marred the roundness of her left cheek.

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Still another reflection was Molly as she appeared now, though more secure, laughter dancing in her eyes. Another reflection showed her at a desk, working.

But the last…

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The last reflection of Molly wasn’t the girl. Oh, it looked like Molly, externally. But the eyes gave it away. They were flat as a reptile’s, empty. She wore all black, including a black collar, and her hair had been dyed to match. Though she looked like Molly, like a human being, she was neither. She had become something else entirely, something very, very bad.

James peered closely at the broom, noticing again the impish shape perched on the end. “What’s that thing, anyway?”

Zane shrugged. “I don’t know. Hood ornament, maybe?” He reached for it, grabbing the sleek black broom from its rack just as Scorpius called out a sudden warning. His words were drowned out by an ear-splitting shriek from the broom itself.

“That’s a personal alarm gargoyle!” Scorpius shouted over the wailing broom. He pointed at the impish shape perched on the end, which had cupped its tiny hands to the sides of its wide mouth. “What are you, a total bumpkin?”